


Two's Company But Three Will Make You Want To Rip Your Heart Out Of Your Chest

by Sourstarbursts



Series: The Complex Delicate Interpersonal Relationships Of Three Teenage Boys [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Character Study, Halloween, Kinda, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Social Anxiety, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 01:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20574377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourstarbursts/pseuds/Sourstarbursts
Summary: “Why do you call me your best friend if you hang out with Eddie more?”A jealous 12 year old Stan once asked Richie. Stan was able to cover up this question that obviously came from a place of hurt, with a more annoyed, even sounding tone. This would cause Richie to answer:“Eddie’s different.”— basically Stan is in love with Richie, Richie is in love with Eddie.





	1. Of Course It's Him

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! so im not really used to writing in this format (i pretty much exclusively write original screenplays) so very sorry if this is formatted weird or jus feels weird. but i really like one sided stoizer for some reason and theres like no fics really like this so i decided to write one lol. also stan talks down to himself and i want you all to know that i dont think these things about stan at all and if YOU do i hope you have a bad day because hes the best. also this fic is basically me projecting my pain on stan so.

There are some moments, when he is with all his friends, Stanley Uris can forget. Just for the briefest moment, he can distract himself from his own wandering eyes and that sick feeling deep in his gut. He can feel his shoulders untense, and laugh along with his friends.  
Other times Stan gives into those wandering eyes, and that sick feeling in his gut is the only thing he can think about. 

“Stan?” Bill puts his hand on his shoulder. Stan jumps up at the sudden movement, causing Bill to move, like Stan somehow just burned him.

“Oh! Uh, sorry. I was spacing out. Again.” 

Bill smiled softly.

The two boys were currently in class working on their English project. Everyone was partnered up, him with Bill, Ben with another boy from their grade, and Richie with Eddie.  
These pairs were not surprising, it was a given that if there was a partner project; Richie would work with Eddie.

Stan watched the two boys in front of him, with their desks pressed up against each other. As they bicker over absolutely nothing. Eddies fast paced talking, hands gesturing wildly as Richie laughs at him.

It wasn’t that Stan hated working with Bill or Ben, not at all. He had a fun time with whichever one he paired up with. They also both would end up helping him get an A on the assignment. Both were really great with English, a subject he struggled with. 

So no, it was not that he hated working with Bill, he just hated the fact he was not working with Richie. That the second the teacher announced partner projects, Richie’s eyes would immediately reach Eddie’s. That the only time Richie’s eyes had met Stan’s, were when Eddie was out sick, or if Eddie was mad at him.

Richie had claimed Stan as his best friend one cold September when they were both about 6 years old. And even to this day, 10 years later, when asked who his best friend was, Richie would always sling an arm around his shoulder and proudly declare, “Well that’s Stan The Man Uris, of course!”

“Why do you call me your best friend if you hang out with Eddie more?” 

A jealous 12 year old Stan once asked Richie. Stan was able to cover up this question that obviously came from a place of hurt, with a more annoyed, even sounding tone. This would cause Richie to answer:

“Eddie’s different.”

For a while Stan was content with this answer. Interpreting the way that Richie felt towards Eddie as almost brotherly. That he wanted to save Eddie from his suffocating mother, to show him what fun was like, but to protect him at the same time.

As the days, weeks, and years, grew on, Stan realized how he felt towards Richie. How he’d find himself imagining scenarios involving the other boy.

Daydreaming of sitting in the park with him, trying to keep Richie quiet so he wouldn't scare off the birds, but at the same time laughing a long to each of the jokes that came out of the boy’s trashmouth. 

Or of the two in his room, with back pressed against the floor, and eyes glued to the ceiling, listening to Stan’s record player. As Sinead O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares To You” would play, Stan wouldn't be listening. Instead too focused on Richie’s humming.

He’d imagine himself on the back of Richie’s bike, clutching onto him as he rode, just like how he once saw Bill and Beverly. Stan’s face on Richie’s back, feeling how warm he was. 

The fairly innocent thoughts would take a turn. A turn that would soon cross the line of something that he could still call platonic.

Ones where they'd be in the hallway of Derry High, Stan would look around, to make sure they were all alone, he would then boldly put his hands on Richie’s face, bringing him into a passionate kiss. 

Ones where it would be Valentines Day, where Richie would be waiting at the clubhouse, just for Stan. He’d have a bouquet of roses, Rosa Peaces, the ones with yellow on the outside and pink on the inside. Stan’s favorite. He’d imagine, he’d kiss Richie once he saw these roses, that Richie would press him up against the wall. His kisses trailing lower, and lower, and lower...

While he was realizing how he felt towards Richie, he would soon realize how Richie felt towards Eddie. 

Soon the daydream universe that Stan constructed in his mind, this universe where him and Richie existed- existed in love, was now plagued by the real images of everyday life.

Now when he was in bed, about to fall asleep, he couldn't find himself peacefully imagining Richie showing up to his house in a prom suit, ready to take pictures anymore. All Stan could imagine was the day Ben’s mom married his stepdad. How all the losers had been invited to their wedding. How they all were in Ben’s living room, getting ready for the ceremony. Stan watched from the sofa as Eddie helped Richie with tying his tie. The way Richie’s cheeks were flushed pink, eyes trained on Eddie’s lips that moved a mile a minute, talking about how Richie wasn't allowed to execute his plan of trying to butt in while the best man was giving his speech so he could give his own speech to Ben’s step dad. Who at the time, Richie had only met twice.

Stan couldn't imagine them in a movie theater, Richie doing the cliche yawn-that-turns-into-the-arm-over-the-shoulder gimmick. Because all he could think about was when he sat in the middle of Richie and Eddie during Aladdin and how Richie had moved to the empty seat next to Eddie, so he could “steal Eddie’s popcorn”. Eddie had pointed out how Stan had a bucket as well, Richie argued that Eddie put way more butter on his, so it probably tasted better.

Stan couldn't imagine the thought of taking Richie to the kissing bridge anymore, of carving their initials with Stan’s Swiss army knife he got for his 15th birthday. Because while walking to the clubhouse, every time he is met with the image of the initials R + E carved on the old wood.

Stan would now find himself think about something different, something that brought him a lot less joy then the thoughts of prom, and kissing and Valentine's day. He thought about the answer that Richie had given to him when they were 12.

“Eddie’s different.” 

Why was he different? Was it the fact that Eddie liked the same comics as him? Was it the fact that he matched Richie’s energy? That he was just as loud and outgoing as Richie, just in his own way? Was it because he didn’t iron all his clothes like some grandma, or take pleasure in said ironing? Was it because he had more exciting interests? Was it because he didn’t get exhausted after hanging out with other people for more than 3 hours? Was he funnier? Was he stronger? Was he more handsome?

Stan loved Eddie, he was a great person and an even greater friend. And even after everything, Stan never found himself wondering: why him, why not me?  
His thoughts had been more along the lines of: of course it’s him, why would you even think it would be you?


	2. Stanley in the Hallway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if u like I live off that shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this comes from my own anxiety and introvertness and alcoholism that I’ve struggled with so yah

At lunch that day, Bill told the losers about what Mike had told him last night on the phone.

“Wooo, go Mikey.” Bev says with a mouthful of school lunch styled mac and cheese in her mouth.

“Jessica Brown really wants Mike to come to her halloween party? No joke? I feel like this a total set up.” Eddie argues.

“M-mike said s-she sounded pretty sincere, that she had noticed mike a few t-times at the lib-bary. And, she thought he w-w-as really c-cute.” Bill smiles at the thought.

“Is mike going to bone her now?” Richie asks, while in the middle of pouring his milk into the green beans on his tray that he didn't eat, which Eddie gags at the sight of.

“N-no! He said he agreed to g-go b-because it sounded fun, and she s-s-said he could b-bring f-f-friends.” 

“Wait, we’re going too?” Stan asks.

“H-He S-said she s-said we could.”

“Dude! That’s fucking tight! I’ve never been to a party before!” Richie exclaims.

“Literally no shit, you should never been invited to a party, not even if it's your own birthday.” Bev laughs.

“Beverly, I promise to you, at that party I will steal away all the attention because of how sexy I will look, that combined with all the alchol Ben will be drinking, he will turn gay and then fall in love with me. I will marry him just to spite you.” Richie states, then taking a bite of the milk infused green beans, Eddie gags again.

“Its true Bev, I can already feel the effects.” Ben says, Bev rolls her eyes at them both. 

~~~~

So the losers prepared for that night; picking out costumes, convincing their parents that they were all just going to be hanging out at the clubhouse that night, and telling mike “yes it would be polite to bring a bottle of sparkling cider to a party, if it was any kind of party other than a high school Halloween party.” 

The time had finally come after that week of planning. The losers now all stood in Richie’s bedroom, helping one another into their costumes. 

Stan was dressed in his costume he went in the previous year: Luke Skywalker. It was simple, comfortable, and took the hassle out of having to decide on another costume, and then go buy it. 

Ben and Bev had decided to do a matching couples costume, something that all the other losers groaned at. They dressed up as Danny and Sandy from grease. It was amusing seeing soft, shy, sensitive Ben, try to take over that John travolta personality. It was even more amusing to see Bev dressed up as Sandy, who in the movie was shorter than Danny, stand about 5 inches taller than him.

Bill had arguably the funniest costume. From the book To Kill A Mockingbird, Bill was dressed in the ham costume that scout wore, except with added arm holes so he would “be able to hold his drinks.” Which didn’t make much sense to Stan, the costume didn’t have a hole for the mouth. Where would the drink go after he took a sip? 

Eddie and Mike both went as vampires. Mike had probably pulled it off a lot better than Eddie, who looked fairly dorky with his fake teeth, slicked back hair, and popped collar on his 5’5 frame. Mike made the cartoonish vampire trope seem almost… sexy, compared to Eddie. That didn’t matter to Richie though, he still pinched the shorters boy’s cheeks and exclaimed, muffled by his cheap rubber Michael Myers mask, “Cute, cute, cute!!”. Stan wondered if maybe he really should have bought a new costume this year.

~~~ 

The party was hectic, from the second he stepped inside, Stan knew this would be too much for him. Music way too loud, people way too close, room way too warm. As the losers filed in one by one through the narrow doorway, Stan felt suffocated by his surroundings. 

Mike set down a steady hand on his shoulder, smiling down at him. Mike understood him in this way, the feeling of needing to be alone. The feeling of just wanting to be inside your bed, away from situations like these. 

The losers and him still made their way through to the kitchen despite Stan feeling as though he didn’t belong to exist here, in this location, and this moment. Jessica Brown lead them to the dining room table covered in bottles of alcohol and surrounded by drunk teenagers. Without asking, she handed each of them a red solo cup, and poured vodka and orange juice inside.

Stan hadn’t planned to drink, Stan isn’t too sure what he had planned for tonight. His friends came, so he came, but what did he wish to gain from it. What was the point of coming to a party, where all you did was dance and drink, if you didn’t plan on dancing or drinking? 

Maybe that’s why he drank, to feel he had a purpose for being here, that he wasn’t just a tag along to his friends, that he could have fun in the way normal people had fun. Not in his way. Or maybe he drank because the first thing Eddie did was chug his drink, which caused an uproar in Richie, which caused them both to see who can drink more and who can drink fastest. 

Whatever the reason for drinking was didn’t matter too much after he started. It tasted foul, just as he would expect. Like gasoline mixed with orange juice, just as he would expect. It felt warm going down, like a lit match in his chest. It felt good. So he drank some more. And some more. 

He drank till he felt comfortable with the dancing aspect of parties. When Bev reached out a hand for Stan to join the rest of the losers dancing, Stan accepted with a smile. 

So he danced, giggling at each loser’s moves. He danced like no one was watching. He had fun like he was the only one in the room. He didn’t feel that weight of being here when he arrived anymore. 

~~~~ 

After about an hour Stan found himself sitting on a couch with Mike, Bev, and Ben surround him. He felt as if he was melted there, like candle wax that dried as it dripped down. His hands were unclenched and his shoulders slouched. As much as he felt good physically, the alcohol in his bloodstream soon turned his bubbly, fun, happy emotions into something more blue. Where he once felt like thick melted chocolate chips in a saucepan, he now felt like a panting man walking through the deseret. Unable to control his movements heavy movements. 

As Mike and Bev talked amongst themselves about something Stan could not quite hear, Stans drooped as he stared out into space. He felt numb, but he felt everything. He thought about everything, but nothing at all. Ben could pick up on this. 

“Hey, Stan?” Ben was sat in front of him, leaning against the couch, he placed a hand on Stan’s knee.

“...huh?” Stan turned his head to look down at Ben. 

“Are you okay?” Ben laughs.

Stan shakes his head no, it’s the truth, but he doesn’t understand why he said it.

“Do you feel sick or something?” Bens eyebrows furrowed. 

“N-no I just…… I think I…. I’m going to go upstairs and lay down.” 

“Okay, just come down and get us if you need anything.” Ben smiles. Bev and Mike tell him they hope he feels better, and with that, Stan makes his way up the staircase.

Knocking shoulders with random people and bumping into walls and corners didn’t last too long until he found his first door to try. Of course it was locked. He tried the second to the right. It was also locked. The third one had opened, but it was a closet.

The turned the handle for the forth. The room was preoccupied already. Stan sharply inhales. Stuck in the doorway with a hand on the knob. Richie and Eddie were on the bed. Richie’s mask lay down besides the two as they made out. Eddie straddling Richie’s waist with his hands running through his hair. 

Eddie and Richie looked up at the noise. Eyes widening at Stan in the hallway. 

Richie let’s put a relieved sigh when seeing Stan. Stan doesn’t think he's breathed yet.

“Eddie, I thought I told you to lock the door.” Richie rolls his eyes. 

“Um you specifically said you w-“ Stan closes the door. He makes his way downstairs. Bill calls out to him as Stan swings open the door and walks out, slamming it shut. 

~~~ 

The bike ride to the clubhouse had been hard, mixed with Stan intoxication and the tears fogging up his eyes, he almost crashed twice. When he got there he immediately threw down his bike on the dirt and climbed down the clubhouse ladder. 

Stan didn’t bother putting on the shower cap, he didn’t care if spiders got in his hair this time. He sat down on one of the crates the losers used as chairs. He puts his head into his hands and sobbed. 

He always knew it was there, always knew it was real. Why was he crying now? Why did it hurt so much now? 

Tears kept falling a falling, Stan just sat there, letting himself feel. Until he heard the latch of the door open. He quickly stood up, wiping away his tears, make it seem as if he wasn’t just crying. 

Bev comes down. And closes the door. 

She takes a look at him, a good hard look at him, and opens her arms. 

Stan trembles as he walks forward into her. Letting Bev curl her arms around his body. As soon as his face finds its way into the crook of her neck, he starts sobbing once more. 

“I know, Stan, I know.” 

In between hiccups he says, “I want him to love me.” She hugs tighter. 

“That doesn’t matter right now honey, just focus on breathing. That’s all that matters right now. 

So he focuses on that, breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically what I was going for was that unrequited love is a bitch but you will always have people in ur life that do love u

**Author's Note:**

> im writing a chapter 2 to this like tomorrow or something so stay tuned.  
i have a twitter that has zero followers and that i dont really post to but you should follow me anyways hehe  
@richietoeziers


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